The Convenient Felstone Marriage

‘Except to marry a man you dislike for his money and then wish for his imminent demise. What would you call that but a scheme?’

‘I’d say you know nothing about it. And since you care so little for good manners, I might add that appearances can be deceptive. You, for example, look like a gentleman, yet you very clearly are not.’

‘Perhaps not, though I’ve been called far worse, I assure you.’

‘I don’t doubt it. But my affairs are none of your business.’

‘On the contrary.’ A shadow darkened his face. ‘I think it every man’s business to know that women like you exist.’

‘Women like me?’ An icy chill raced down her spine. What did that mean? How could he know what kind of woman she was? How could he possibly tell?

‘Schemers. Deceivers. Women who say one thing to a man’s face and another behind his back.’ He let his gaze drop contemptuously, as if he were studying her from head to toe and finding her wanting. ‘You don’t even have the decency to speak well of your quarry. At least I know what I am. You still think yourself a lady, I suppose?’

He turned his face away, staring out of the window as she gazed into thin air, speechless with shock. How was it possible? After everything she’d done to alter her appearance, to alter herself, how could he still look at her and call her a schemer?

She caught her breath, struggling against the old familiar feelings of shame and self-loathing. She’d been called a schemer once before, had tried to plead her innocence then, too, not that it had made any difference. Was everything they’d said about her in Bournemouth true, then? Was there something so bad, so inherently corrupt in her nature that even a stranger could see it?

No! Her mind resisted the idea. And even if there was, it wasn’t intentional. She wasn’t the one scheming against Sir Charles. She didn’t want anything to do with him at all. He was the one scheming against her! And how dare this stranger speak to her so abominably, as if she were the most shame-faced fortune-hunter he’d ever laid eyes on. Whoever he was, he had no right to judge!

‘Yes,’ she began angrily, ‘I do call myself a lady. At least as much as you’re a gentleman. And if you’d been paying closer attention or given me the slightest benefit of the doubt, you’d know that I have no desire and certainly no intention of marrying Sir Charles!’

‘Sir Charles?’ The stranger turned his head sharply at the end of her speech, having continued to stare out of the window for most of it. ‘You mean Charles Lester?’

Ianthe bit her tongue, realising her mistake a few seconds too late. Was it possible that they hadn’t mentioned his identity earlier? No, now that she thought of it, Percy always referred to him as Charles, while she avoided his name altogether. Not that there was any point in denying it now.

She nodded cautiously as the stranger ran a hand through his hair, muttering something indistinguishable under his breath.

‘Do you know him, sir?’

‘We’re acquainted.’

‘Oh.’

She waited, hardly knowing whether to feel guilty or relieved. For once, it seemed as though Percy’s behaviour would have consequences. If this man were acquainted with Sir Charles, then doubtless he’d tell him everything they’d just said. On the other hand, embarrassing as it was, it would solve her dilemma. After such a public condemnation, the Baronet would probably never want to see her again.

Perhaps it hadn’t been such a terrible mistake after all...

‘In that case...’ the stranger leaned forward suddenly, resting his forearms on his knees as he bent closer towards her ‘...I believe I ought to retract my last comments. I overheard half a conversation and reacted badly. I believe I came in somewhere around the time you were denouncing your brother as pompous and then I could hardly intrude without embarrassing you.’ He frowned, as if admitting something against his will. ‘But it was wrong of me, I ought to have announced myself. I wasn’t trying to listen, but your brother’s last words...’ He shook his head regretfully. ‘I apologise unreservedly.’

Ianthe blinked in bewilderment, stunned by such a marked transformation. The stranger’s voice was still terse, but the ferocious scowl and derisive curl of his lip were gone, as if the focus of his anger had simply shifted elsewhere. What had happened? A moment ago he’d seemed to despise the very sight of her and now he was apologising? The only difference was that he’d learnt the identity of her suitor.

The realisation was distinctly unsettling.

‘You have a poor opinion of Sir Charles then?’ She hardly dared ask.

‘None that I’d care to repeat.’

‘Under the circumstances, I believe I have a right to know.’

He shook his head, looking out of the window with a brooding expression. ‘As I said, we’re only acquaintances. Most of what I know is second-hand and I don’t care for gossip.’

‘You just called me a schemer, sir,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t see why you should start being reticent now.’

He looked back towards her then, his gaze newly appraising, and she found herself smoothing her hands over the folds of her dress self-consciously. What was he looking at? What was he thinking? Not that she cared what he thought of her, but the piercing gleam in those ironclad eyes disturbed her somehow. Still, if he thought he could avoid giving her an answer, he could think again...

She lifted her chin, determined not to yield. ‘If you want me to forgive you, then you might at least have the decency to tell me the truth.’

A single black eyebrow quirked upwards. ‘What does it matter if you intend to refuse him?’

‘It matters because my brother spends a great deal of time in his company. If there’s something unsuitable about Sir Charles, then I’d like to know about it.’

He nodded his head slightly, her words seeming to convince him at last. ‘Very well, then. I think he’s a lecher and a gambler, though rich enough, I grant you. I wouldn’t blame any woman for objecting to such an alliance.’

‘Even a woman like me?’

A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘Forgive me, I misspoke. My anger was mainly directed at your brother, but when I opened my eyes, he’d already gone. I’m afraid I took my temper out on the wrong person. I beg you to forget what I said.’

‘Forget?’ She stared at him incredulously. ‘You think it so easy to forget such words?’

‘No. Perhaps not.’ His gaze flickered momentarily. ‘My only excuse is that I’ve had a difficult morning. I felt provoked.’

‘And that’s supposed to be an apology?’ She gave a curt laugh. Difficult morning or not, he had no right to vent his bad temper on her. She already had Percy’s insults to contend with. She didn’t need some stranger’s as well!

‘It’s an explanation. You have to admit your brother’s words were callous in the extreme.’

‘My brother is young and sometimes foolish, but he wants what’s best for me.’

‘By forcing you to marry a man like Lester? Yes, he sounds an ideal brother.’

‘He’s not forcing me to do anything! You don’t know anything about it. Or us. Our financial circumstances are such that—’

She stopped mid-sentence, wondering why she was even bothering to argue. None of this was his business. There was no need to defend either herself or Percy. Except that she felt a strange desire to explain herself, if only to get the matter clear in her own mind.

‘My brother wishes to see me settled and financially secure, that’s all. Not that I’d expect a man of means to understand that.’

The stranger’s lips twisted scornfully. ‘Not all men are born with means. Some of us make our own way without selling our sisters.’

‘How dare you!’ She felt her temper snap, her voice rising with anger. How dare he suggest something so monstrous, as if Percy would barter her off simply to pay back his debts and free himself from the responsibility of providing for her! Even if there was a grain of truth to the accusation, she refused to believe that her brother was so heartless! He was just young, that was all...

‘I speak as I find.’

‘Then you’re no gentleman, sir. You’re a disgrace to the word! And I’d be grateful if you’d keep the rest of your thoughts to yourself.’

She swung away, chest heaving, half-relieved, half-dismayed by her outburst. Not that he didn’t deserve such censure, but if he was no gentleman, then she was certainly no lady to behave in such an unrestrained, uncontrolled manner. Maybe what they’d said about her in Bournemouth was true after all...

‘Tell me, is it marriage itself you object to or Sir Charles in particular?’

She turned back towards him, eyes widening in disbelief. Why was he still talking? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? He sounded infuriatingly calm, not the slightest bit offended by her insults.